Kael stormed into the Harbormaster’s office, his boots pounding against the wooden floor with a force that shook the small room. The old man, seated behind his desk, looked up in shock, his expression quickly turning to confusion as the towering figure of the Ashen loomed over him.

  Before the Harbormaster could utter a word, Kael seized him by the front of his shirt and hauled him into the air with ease. The old man gasped, his frail hands clutching at Kael’s wrist, his face pale with terror.

  "What did you do?!" Kael’s voice was a thunderous roar that reverberated through the room, his blood-red eyes burning with fury. "What did you take from her!?"

  The Harbormaster’s lips quivered as he sputtered, "W-what are you talking about? Let me go!"

  Kael slammed the old man against the wall with a deafening thud, the force rattling nearby shelves and sending papers fluttering to the floor. "The Cecaelia!" Kael snarled, his face inches from the Harbormaster’s. "What did you take!?"

  The old man’s eyes widened in realization, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find words.

  Kael’s patience snapped. He hurled the Harbormaster across the room as though he weighed nothing. The man crashed into a wooden cabinet, splinters flying as he crumpled to the ground. Kael’s roar filled the room, shaking its very foundation.

  "It took Eleanor!" he growled, advancing on the trembling man. "If you want your granddaughter returned alive, I need to return what you took!"

  The Harbormaster’s terror was palpable, his body shaking as he pushed himself upright, leaning against the wrecked cabinet. His face was ashen, and his eyes were glassy with unshed tears. "Eleanor..." he whispered, his voice breaking.

  He collapsed onto his knees, covering his face with his hands. "I... I’m sorry..." he muttered, his words barely audible. "I didn’t mean for this to happen... I didn’t think..."

  Kael towered over him, his expression a storm of rage and desperation. "Where is it?" he demanded.

  The old man looked up at him, his face wet with tears. He nodded weakly, his voice trembling. "I’ll take you... I’ll take you to where I buried it..."

  The Harbormaster led Kael away from the village, his shoulders hunched as if carrying an invisible weight. The moonlight bathed the landscape in a pale glow, casting long shadows as they traversed the rugged terrain. Neither spoke a word, but Kael could hear the old man’s rapid heartbeat pounding like a drum. His trembling hands occasionally brushed against his sides, and his uneven steps betrayed his growing fear.

  Kael’s eyes narrowed as he studied the Harbormaster’s trembling frame. The man’s silence was telling, each shaky breath a sign of the dread that clawed at him. After a while, the old man slowed, his heart racing even faster as he came to a halt.

  "Here..." he finally muttered, his voice cracking. He pointed a gnarled finger at a pile of rocks nestled beneath a lone, twisted tree. "This is where I buried it."

  Kael’s crimson eyes flicked from the rocks to the Harbormaster, his patience wearing thin. "Then unbury it. Quickly," he snapped, his tone sharp as steel.

  The old man flinched at Kael’s command, lowering his gaze as shame and guilt flickered across his face. He stumbled toward the rocks, dropping to his knees. With trembling hands, he began scooping up dirt, his fingers clawing at the earth as though trying to outrun his own remorse.

  Minutes passed, the sound of shifting soil and clinking stones filling the air. Sweat dripped from the Harbormaster’s brow, mixing with the tears that now streamed down his face. Finally, with a muffled sob, he unearthed a small chest, its wood weathered and worn. The man hesitated, clutching the box as if it burned his hands.

  Kael stepped forward, his towering figure casting a shadow over the old man. "Is this what she wants?" he demanded, snatching the chest from trembling hands.

  Kael inspected the chest, its weight surprisingly light for something that had caused so much bloodshed. He knelt and opened it, his brows furrowing when he found a bundle of cloth nestled inside. Confusion flickered across his face as he unwrapped it.

  What he uncovered made his stomach churn.

  A skull. Small, fragile, and unmistakably human-like—but malformed. Its structure was unnatural, the curves and ridges twisted in ways that spoke of something not entirely human. Kael unwrapped more of the bundle, revealing skeletal remains—tiny, delicate bones that were slightly warped, with proportions that defied normality.

  His breath caught as the realization struck him like a blow.

  "These..." he muttered, his voice low and grim, "are the bones of a hybrid newborn."

  The Harbormaster collapsed to his knees, his sobs growing louder. He shook violently, unable to meet Kael’s piercing gaze.

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  Kael’s hands tightened around the cloth, his mind racing as he pieced it together. Slowly, he turned to the old man. His voice dropped, a dangerous edge lacing every word. "You... You are the father. And the Cecaelia... is the mother?"

  The Harbormaster choked on a sob, his face contorted with anguish. "I... I’m sorry," he stammered, his voice barely audible. "I didn’t know what else to do... I thought... I thought it was an abomination..."

  Kael’s jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together as rage boiled in his chest. He turned his gaze back to the bones, a silent storm raging within him. The air around them grew heavier, the weight of unspoken truths and irreparable sins pressing down.

  The Harbormaster’s sobs echoed in the still night as he slumped against the base of the gnarled tree, his trembling hands covering his face. Kael stood over him, his piercing gaze locked on the man who was unraveling under the weight of his own guilt. Between choked cries, the old man began to speak, his voice raw and broken.

  "It was years ago," he began, his words halting and uneven. "I was a younger man then... not as weathered as I am now. One day, I found her—the Cecaelia—washed up on the beach. She was injured, barely clinging to life. I... I couldn’t leave her there. I didn’t even know what she was, not at first. I nursed her back to health."

  Kael’s expression remained grim, his jaw tightening as the man’s story unfolded.

  "At first, it was just out of kindness. But as the days turned into weeks, we... we grew close," the Harbormaster continued, his voice trembling. "She was so different, so... fascinating. I’d never met anyone like her, and I suppose she felt the same. We began meeting in secret, down by the shore. It was... it was foolish. But I was young and blinded by my own desires."

  The old man paused, his tears streaming freely now. "Then I met my wife," he said, his voice breaking. "A wonderful woman, kind and loving. I couldn’t risk her finding out about the Cecaelia, about what we had been. So I stopped going to the shore. I stopped seeing her."

  Kael’s eyes narrowed as he leaned forward slightly. "And yet, she didn’t stop seeking you, did she?"

  The Harbormaster shook his head, his sobs intensifying. "No. She called to me... over and over. I ignored her for weeks, but eventually, I went back. I thought I could explain, that I could make her understand. But when I got there... she wasn’t alone."

  The old man’s voice cracked, and he covered his face again, as if trying to hide from the memory. "She had a child," he whispered. "A baby. It was... almost human, but not quite. Its fingers were webbed, and it had these... small tentacle-like appendages. She told me it was ours. Ours!"

  Kael felt his chest tighten, his fists clenching at his sides as the story took a darker turn.

  "I panicked," the Harbormaster admitted, his voice rising with hysteria. "I thought about how the village would react, how they’d treat her, how they’d treat *me.* They’d have called her a monster... and me? A traitor to my kind. I... I couldn’t let it happen."

  Kael’s crimson eyes burned with fury as the old man’s confession spilled forth.

  "I stole the child," the Harbormaster said, his words coming out in a rush. "I put it in this chest and... and buried it here, where no one would find it. I thought I was saving everyone—my family, my reputation. I thought it would end there."

  Kael’s voice was a low growl. "And the Cecaelia?"

  The Harbormaster flinched. "She came looking for the child. She wouldn’t stop. I... I couldn’t face her. So I hired someone. Paid them to trap her and dump her far from here. Far from Cavalcade. I thought if she was gone, everything would go back to normal."

  Kael’s grimace deepened, and his fists tightened until his knuckles turned white. He glanced at the small skeletal remains in the chest, his mind piecing together the tragic puzzle. "She must have spent years trying to find her way back," he muttered. "Years of enduring whatever horrors she faced..."

  The Harbormaster collapsed fully to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably. "I’m sorry," he wailed. "I’m so sorry. I never meant for it to come to this."

  Kael’s expression was a mix of rage and disgust, but there was no time for judgment. His voice cut through the Harbormaster’s cries like a blade. "Your sorrow means nothing to her now. You’ve damned yourself and your village, and now she’s taken Eleanor because of *your* sins. The only thing that matters is fixing this. And for her sake..." He gestured to the chest. "...you’ll help me do it."

  The Harbormaster nodded weakly, his body shaking as he whispered, "I’ll do whatever it takes. Just bring her back."

  Kael’s jaw tightened, and he lifted the chest with care, his mind already calculating his next move. The harbormaster led the Ashen to the entrance to the shrine.

  Kael adjusted his grip on the chest, his knuckles pale against the dark wood, and gestured firmly toward the cave’s entrance. The Harbormaster hesitated, his weathered face pale and glistening with cold sweat.

  "Let’s go," Kael said, his voice a low growl that left no room for argument.

  The old man flinched, clutching his coat tightly. "Do I... must I go too?"

  Kael’s crimson eyes bore into him like fire through frost. "Yes!" he barked. "This is your doing. Every death, every drop of blood spilled—it's all on your hands. The least you can do is face her. Return the remains. Give her the closure you stole from her."

  The Harbormaster’s knees buckled slightly, but Kael’s unrelenting gaze held him upright. "She probably assumes the child is still alive," Kael continued, his voice hard and unyielding. "You owe her the truth, no matter how much it terrifies you."

  With a strong shove, Kael forced the man toward the gaping cave entrance. The shadows within seemed to breathe, the faint sound of dripping water echoing from deep inside. The Harbormaster stumbled forward, his legs trembling as he crossed the threshold.

  The air grew damp and heavy as they descended into the cave. The walls were slick with moss and glistened faintly in the dim light filtering through cracks above. Each step seemed to amplify the weight of the chest in Kael’s hands, though his grip never faltered. The Harbormaster shuffled ahead, his breaths shallow and quick, like a man walking toward his own execution.

  After what felt like an eternity of walking through the oppressive darkness of the cave, the tunnel finally widened, revealing a vast, cavernous chamber. The air was heavy and damp, carrying with it a faint metallic tang that clung to Kael's senses. At the heart of the chamber stood a shrine carved from black stone, its surface unnaturally smooth, as if polished by centuries of restless water.

  Encircling the shrine was a shallow pool of water, eerily still, its surface reflecting the faint luminescence with such clarity it resembled a polished mirror. The pool's unnatural stillness was unsettling, as though it defied the natural laws of movement and sound.

  To one side of the chamber, a second pool stretched farther into the darkness, its waters a shade deeper and murkier, hinting at untold depths. The faint sound of slow drips echoed from this area, each drop rippling across the surface in languid, ominous waves.

  Kael’s sharp eyes darted to the far end of the room. There, near the edge of the deeper pool, he spotted a crumpled figure. Eleanor. She lay motionless on the wet stone floor, her hair splayed out in dark, tangled strands, her clothes damp and clinging to her form. Her chest rose and fell faintly with shallow breaths, indicating she was unconscious rather than dead. Her arms were limp at her sides, her skin pale from the cold and damp air that permeated the chamber.

  Kael narrowed his eyes, taking in every detail, from the faint red marks around her neck to the smudge of grime on her cheek. His grip tightened on the chest as he scanned the rest of the chamber, his heightened senses alert for movement. The chamber felt alive, as if the very walls were holding their breath, waiting for what would happen next.

  The Harbormaster, stumbling behind him, gasped when he saw Eleanor. "Oh gods…" he whispered, his voice cracking.

  Kael set the chest down carefully and turned to the Harbormaster. "This is it," he said, his voice quieter now but no less commanding. "You will place the remains on the shrine yourself."

  The old man recoiled as if struck. "I... I can’t..."

  "You will," Kael snapped, his voice cutting through the man’s protests like a blade. "She deserves to see you—*you*—take responsibility for what you did."

  The Harbormaster’s hands shook violently as he knelt beside the chest. He hesitated, staring at the skeletal remains wrapped in the faded cloth. Tears streamed down his face as he reached for them, his fingers trembling. Kael stood over him, his presence a looming reminder of the task at hand.

  The Harbormaster finally lifted the bundle, his breath hitching as he cradled it against his chest. Slowly, he shuffled toward the shrine, each step heavier than the last. When he reached the base of the black stone, he knelt again, gently placing the remains on the surface.

  The air in the chamber grew impossibly still, Kael’s eyes darted around the room, his senses heightened.